Mission Sorta Kinda Possible
by narutolover930
Summary: What if Nathaniel lived in a world that was ruled by science, not magic? and wait, who is that? Bartimaeus as his mentor? this can't go well. AU. NatxKitty rated T to be safe.
1. A Rough Start

OMG here it is! my story _Mission Sorta Kinda Possible_ by me, narutolover930. ive wanted to do this for a long time, but ive been swamped with school, cuz according to all adults in the vicintiy, my school district is what is known as "strenuous" and i cant help but to agree. so dont be mad if i dont update for a LONG time, but if u review, it might prompt me to do it faster, for the fans, ya know? i couldnt have done this without my editor, the fabulous edwardkevinfoeva (yes, she is one of those twilight people) so, without further ado, _Mission Sorta Kinda Possible_!

**CHAPTER 1**

**A ROUGH START**

"Nathaniel! Wake up you lazy bum! Get you ass down here!"

"Ugh." Nathaniel, same as always, groggily dragged himself out of bed, by sheer willpower, and willed his feet to drag the rest of him towards his lame, scratched up, mahogany dresser and mirror, a tough feat in and of itself, not only because he was a walking zombie at this point, but because of the sheer size and lighting (or lack thereof) that was in this room. To put it bluntly, it was like being in a normal sized cave, if you were a 50 foot tall giant. At night. Underground. This room—no, this cave, only had one small window, next to the bed, blinds drawn, and one small lamp, residing on the child-sized desk, which was only lit for his constant all-night study sessions.

Not even wanting to look at his face this early in the day, Nathaniel kept his eyes low as he scoped out his favorite attire, pinstripe suit pants, leather loafers, and too large collared shirts with cuffs about 10 sizes too big for that.

A/N: wow, natty has no life in this story, does he? Studying all night and dressing like an overworked businessman, I apologize. Really. Sorry.

Gingerly stuffing and pulling his fingers in and out of his ruffled and tangled hair, Nathaniel found the sudden courage to view his reflection. In short, he was a complete and total mess. His hair, after the incessant combing by his fingers, was still sticking up in random places, kind of like an angry black cat died and somehow ended up on his head, the hair drying strangely like that cat was used as some sort of makeshift umbrella. This was going to be a field day for him, Nathaniel thought dryly, thinking of the constant pestering of his master.

Oh, yes, he could imagine it now. Opening the door, his cheeky grin greeting him, and the words from his mouth, probably something along the lines of, 'Oi, Nat! What the hell happened to you? You look like a cat died on your head or something! Or…maybe you were too busy doing other _things_ to pay attention to your hair.' And with that, he would start to wink and do other embarrassing gestures to him, both in plain sight on the front step of his house. What an idiot that guy was. But that was then coupled by another thought, somewhat more hurtful to his pride. Wow, he really needed to spend time with some other people. Well, because of this master of his, all hopes of anything else were crushed. Hard. Like dropping a large stone on an ant.

A/N: yes, nat, get a life! Writing this is starting to depress me. We need an awesome smart-aleck character to liven things up! Well, be patient! Come on! We need more marshmallow fluff before we get to that point! And more of my awesome writing!

Well, it was too late to worry about his hair, he would just have to make due with hurriedly shoving his hair down with his fingers now, and hoping his cap would flatten it on the walk there, he thought as he shoved the fabric cap over his head, straightening the bill so it pointed a little to the left side of his face. He thought it looked rather dashing that way. Worrying about his hair, Nathaniel began to pull on his too-large cuffs, a rather annoying habit that he had taken to as of late, when another thorn struck his already bleeding side. His eyes. They looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. Surely just more fuel for the annoying guy that he had to spend all day, almost every day, with. This new bout of worry was just followed by more cuff adjusting, probably hoping to hide his very skinny, and lets just say, feminine wrists with tons of fabric, probably to make him feel better about himself.

As this was happening, Mr. Underwood's voice was heard booming up the stairwell to his room from the kitchen, and with a start, Nathaniel was sprinting to his door and, two steps at a time, cavorted down the stairs.

* * *

"Hey! Boy!" Mr. Underwood was yelling up into the dark, cavernous stairwell, except without the satisfying echo afterwards. The sound was just, gone. Pity. I'm sure a guy like that, who enjoys hearing his voice so much, like most other businessmen, would stand there and yell at least twice as long, not so much for a response from who he was taking to, but to hear his own deep, scratchy voice yell back at him, give him time to comment on how powerful his voice sounded to himself, to inflate the old ego.

"Get your lazy ass down here now. Do you want to be late? Do you know how much were paying for this?" Mr. Underwood yelled yet again into the dark abyss of the stairwell. After that outburst, however, he had had enough. Mr. Underwood sullenly stormed back to the kitchen table, where Mrs. Underwood had recently placed a rather large helping of eggs, bacon, sausage, and a few slices of tomato, and slumped into the wide-set mahogany chair sitting in front of the giant breakfast helping.

Rubbing his temples, Mr. Underwood contemplated his adoptee of a son. What an annoyance and bother this kid was sometimes, he sure hoped that his investment was worth it. Well, in any case, Martha sure seemed to like the boy, and he guessed that that was fine. For now. For the time being, these brooding thoughts were shaken by thunderclaps of said boy's feet hurrying down the stairs into the kitchen. Speak of the devil, Mr. Underwood grimaced.

Nathaniel then did a probably very well practiced move of, all while walking, mind you, grabbing a piece of charred black toast from the small lazy Susan in the middle of the small table, grabbing his overcoat and messenger bag from the dark wood chair to Mr. Underwood's direct right, and ending up after three long- legged paces at the front door, having the coat and bag securely on his person.

This stylish routine was broken by a high pitched worried voice. "Nathaniel, you really ought to be having a proper breakfast, come and have some eggs. I've made plenty." This statement stopped Nathaniel in his tracks, as Mrs. Underwood usually knows that he really shouldn't be late with the research with his mentor. Nathaniel made a big show of stopping dead in his tracks, mid- stride, his mouth around the piece of toast and other hand firmly around the doorknob.

This seemingly randomly spurted negotiation was lost as Nathaniel rebuked, "I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Underwood," hurriedly biting and chewing a large portion of the toast, "but I'm late as it is, and you know as well as I that I need to spend as much time there studying as possible, if I want to end up as successful as I plan, right?" This was Nathaniel's sorry attempt at social activeness while hurrying, asking numeral rhetorical questions as fast as he possibly could. Well, at least his social skills can't get any worse. "Well, I guess I'm off then, I can't keep him waiting, now can I?" And with no further warning, he was off, into the chilly November air that blew lazily into the now empty foyer. My bad. I guess from that last sentence or two, it did get worse. I mean really, just saying 'bye!' and leaving doesn't really count towards a graceful exit. He really needs to work on that. It just leaves the other person dazed and hopelessly confused.

"No, I guess not." Mrs. Underwood muttered, disappointed, to no one in particular. See? Dazed and hopelessly confused.

As Mrs. Underwood still stood, dazed, facing the direction of the now quiet foyer and the now closed cherry door, the flick of the _Times_ between Mr. Underwood's thumb and forefinger could be heard. "Hmm…." Mr. Underwood started. Doesn't he have such a way with words? Anyway, "The government, due to outside pressure to Parliament, has lowered the budget for scientific research. Again."

It may have been the middle-aged couple's imagination, but it seemed that all happiness, and life, sunk into the basement directly below them. Mrs. Underwood prayed, again, at no one in particular, sending hope to Nathaniel, telling him not to give up, no matter how tough it may seem, and she could feel the fresh sting of newly formed tears in the corners of her wrinkling, hazel-brown eyes. She batted them away quickly. "More tea, Arthur?"

* * *

hope u liked it! if u did, please review, i 33 critizism in every form, and nice reviews too! if u review, u can get a virtual cookie! till next time!--narutolover930


	2. The Torment Begins, For Nathaniel

A/N: OMFG!! Chapter 2! I'm so exited! Except that I didn't get any reviews *cough cough friends cough cough* and I know how many people hit on my story, so I'm very disappointed *wags finger at people*

So now my rule is… no new chapter unless I get at least 5 reviews!! Do you hear that?? 5!! And Christmas break is coming up, too, so I can write a bunch of new chapters…

**Disclaimer:** well, if you missed the fact that this story is on !! last chapter, well, obviously, it is because I don't own the Bartimaeus trilogy. However much I would like to. Which is a lot.

On to Chapter 2!! (btw, this chapter is brought to you by copious amounts of Jack's Mannequin, Breaking Benjamin, Yellowcard, Sum 41, Papa Roach, Avril Lavigne, Fall Out Boy, and other such artists, 33 you guys!)

**CHAPTER 2**

**THE TORMENT BEGINS…FOR NATHANIEL**

The brisk late autumn chill that creped up Nathaniel's loose fitting jacket stayed with him no matter how fast he walked through the bustling, grey streaked London streets toward his mentor's home, which contained a well-stocked laboratory in its dimly lit basement.

As Nathaniel weaved half heartedly though the rush hour of pedestrians trying to get to their own places of work, and observed the houses lining the streets. They were much like his own, tall and thin, and fit snugly with the houses adjoining it on either side, as if, without one of the other houses on either side, all of the other buildings would fall over, sort of like a gothic trail of dominoes. After seeing this dreary, graying spectacle of a housing parade for all of five minutes, Nathaniel tried using his remaining attention span to anticipate the grievances that he would be pummeled with by his overly energetic mentor, Bartimaeus. He sighed as a younger woman made a twist to avoid his walking right into her. Sometimes he wondered if all this was worth it. As he was getting closer and closer, Nathaniel noticed that the crowd thinned considerably, and as the need to not bump into other passerby decreased, Nathaniel's brain wandered considerably more, which, going without saying, worried him even more. He really didn't know how much longer he could keep up with the constant pestering of Bartimaeus, and he feels as if he gets nothing done. And the worst thought of all, what kind of crazy scheme he wanted Nathaniel involved with today. Even worse than that worse thought, none of these things had anything to do with his scientific study.

A/N: yeah, I feel that. Trying to spread the love here. I'm sure if he read this, Bartimaeus would resent all that very deeply.

Nathaniel stopped his slumping at the familiar doorstep of one Bartimaeus. Trying to make every moment before he was forced inside last longer, Nathaniel adopted a snail-like pace, to understate things, and hobbled like an old man up the three steps to stop in front of the brightly painted red door. The door number looked into his eye (he was at eye level with it, you see) and mocked him, being able to stay out of doors all day. Nathaniel quickly averted his gaze to the lion door knocker that he was accustomed to using every morning (lion_ess_, actually, lion's manes always get in the way of everything, when fighting, or looking around, or taking up too much room on someone's door as a decorative knocker), gingerly picked it up, and pounded the knocker into the red dent in the door three times (this dent was actually made by him using the stupid thing every day, ugh, some people). Nathaniel stepped back and waiting, the suspense growing because Bartimaeus took his sweet time answering the door, the wind whistling though the pores in his jacket, and blowing his hair wildly in all directions. Great. Like he needed more prodding to make himself look horrible. Nathaniel tried to right this hurriedly by smoothing his hair down with his jacket-covered hands, and keeping them on top of his head, until he heard the familiar click of the red door beginning to move outward to greet him.

"Natty boy!! On time again, I see. What's wrong with you? Don't you ever have any fun?" Bartimaeus, now standing in the doorway, greeted Nathaniel, wagging a finger in such a way as to mimic an overly demanding mother.

"With you, that's not really possible." Nathaniel curtly responded.

"Well, if I have so suddenly become part of the problem, I shall become part of the solution!" Bartimaeus started. Nathaniel rolled his eyes at the word suddenly, noting that Bartimaeus had been a thorn in his side ever since they had both laid eyes on each other, with the energetic nature of Bartimaeus, that's probably true. "I will make it my solemn duty, along with being your fun-loving mentor, I shall help you get a life! Sad, I know, but you really could use the help, and your guardians don't seem to be helping you none. With my prowess at…well, everything, I think it wouldn't be to hard of a task for me, you know, once, many years ago, I --"

"Let's just go, come on, I don't come here every day so you can play matchmaker like some sort of crazed 15 year old girl writing a fan fiction." With that, Nathaniel grabbed the now sulking form of Bartimaeus out of the doorframe, and both disappeared inside the red door.

A/N: Guilty as charged. Yeah, so? Matchmaker playing is fun, but don't ever play it with real people. SURGEN GENERAL'S WARNING: Don't ever play matchmaker with real people. I have been the victim of too many trials to know that all too well. JUST SAY NO!!!

Sorry the chapter is kinda short, I had a lot of homework to do, you know, right before the holidays and such. BTW!! I'm going to be the co- writer of a Death Note Abridged series, please include any ideas you have for it in your reviews, mmkay?

33 you guys! –narutolover930


	3. grown men giggling

OK, well, I finally am writing like I promised myself I would…and now…chapter 3!! I'm kinda tired of holding the story hostage, it kept bothering me…wouldn't shut up!

All * footnotes are provided by Bartimaeus himself! (You better be exited, do you know how much work it took to get him here? All sorts of—well, whatever. You get the idea.) yeah, they're at the bottom, and in order, so scroll down, sorry if you lose your place with them, yeah, I do like to annoy people by having them scroll, it shows what a devoted fan you are!

Yeah, and thanks to edwardkevinfoeva for editing(again) that you took the time to read this ridiculously long chapter.

Chapter 3! Da da da da! (you get the idea, superhero theme song and all that.)

**Disclaimer:** well, the purple dragons say that I own the series, but they're on a picnic, so no, I don't own this series =_=' *sigh* those dragons (lol love avatar abridged!)

**CHAPTER 3**

**KNOW ANY ****OTHER**** GROWN MEN THAT WOULD GIGGLE?**

Bartimaeus sighed as Nathaniel fiddled with a test tube for what seemed like the 80th time that day. For a mentor, he didn't seem to be teaching this kid a damn thing. In order to satiate this kid and his endless fountain of annoying questions, Bartimaeus had given the boy free liberty to borrow his books, however, now that this guy has read literally ALL of his books, all Bartimaeus has to do is sit there, bored, alone, no one to talk to, spinning aimlessly on the blue plastic stool, however fun that is. And trust me, they were, for all intents and purposes, very fun to spin on—when you had someone to do it with. And having someone blatantly ignore you while sitting right next to them really does deflate one's ego some as well. Bartimaeus sighed again. This kid was about just as fun to talk to as a stuffed doll. No, probably less fun, you couldn't force this kid to do anything like you could a doll. Damn. Bartimaeus smiled at the thought of picking Nathaniel up, dressing him in something decently human, and making him talk to a girl, but he doubted even then that he would do it. Double damn.

Stuck by sudden inspiration, Bartimaeus began a very overly optimistic suggestion, "Oi, Nat!" Bartimaeus started, snapping his fingers and waving his hand in front of the boy's preoccupied face, only to receive silence and the clinking of metal upon glass, as his white-coated counterpart stirred the contents of one very frothy, greenish-blue mix in a beaker. He would have to make Nathaniel clean that later. Bartimaeus tried again, this time tapping his companion's shoulder—hard. "Oi, Nat!" Upon the hand making contact with his shoulder, Nathaniel, out of shock from the sudden movement, dropped the pen he was holding, sending it clacking onto the floor, and jumped back a good six inches, into a parallel work desk, thus sending the boy to the floor, not unlike the action with the pen. If the kid hadn't looked so aggravated, it would've been a helluva sight.

"WHAT!" The aggravated boy answered, clearly not expecting the action, slowly gaining footing and lifting himself wearily off the floor, while glaring at his overly-cheerful mentor as he flopped out of his raised up chair and landed gracefully on the floor. "What is it now?" Truth be told, this was around the fourth or fifth time that this same conversation had taken place that day, and it was really starting to piss Nathaniel off (which would be an understatement of the fifth degree….if said by Edward Cullen, who we all know is a FICTIONAL CHARACTER(no offense to anyone, but really)).

"Have you found anything new?" Was Bartimaeus' meek answer, dripping with fake optimism, they both knew that Nathaniel hadn't found anything new for the past six months, which was when Nathaniel joined him in his studies.* And from the glare that came with saying that, he would assume that the answer was, no, as it had been the last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, and the—well, you get the idea.

"Okay, you seem a liiiiiittle stressed out….I think that we should maybe take a break." Bartimaeus started, moving his hands back and forth in a calming wave to add to the effect, inching his way towards Nathaniel with every hand move. "Hey! I know! Why don't we take a walk downtown, go to that new coffeehouse I've heard so much about, maybe, you know, take a look at the girls down there." He added with a girlish giggle and a sly grin to match.

Seeing how Bartimaeus wouldn't give in so easily, Nathaniel gave, well, sort of a growling sound, and hung his head in defeat, which got Bartimaeus dancing around the room, flinging off his lab coat and goggles as if they were over clothes at the beach, and almost succeeded in catching the whole lab on fire.* But eventually, with much stamping and sighing (the latter mostly on the part of Nathaniel), the unlikely acquaintances found their way downtown on the sidewalk of early afternoon. The wind had picked up sometime during Nathaniel's visit, and, although the sun was shining, it was bitingly cold, wind swirling around the buildings threatening to tear down the clouds, a cruel reminder that it was almost winter in London.

Luckily for the both of them, Bartimaeus' house was rather close to their destination, the small shopping plaza of Piccadilly, and the coffeehouse, from the sign that protruded from the building, which was known as Druid's.

The coffeehouse faintly reminded Nathaniel of Mrs. Underwood's kitchen, but multiplied. The diners sat at neat, almost compact, round wooden tables, only making itself known under the ironed white tablecloths with the rather large single leg that protruded from the very center of the table, and connecting its own dark polished mahogany finish with the grey-flint tile floor with three smaller tripod-like stands. Nathaniel also noticed the apparent lack of customers, only half of the tables were being waited at currently, which seemed off to him, especially, looking at his watch, because it would me most workers' lunch hour at the moment. But it didn't stress him out too much, if it was one thing he didn't know, it was the eating habits of grown workers. Besides, he never took any of what Bartimaeus said to heart, about this being a well known café, Nathaniel just thought that the older man just wanted an opportunity to not come here alone. Nathaniel shook his head to rid it of the ridiculous train of thought he was on. Really, he was starting to think as unimportant thoughts as Bartimaeus.* Speak of the devil, Bartimaeus' voice was soon in his ear…again. Like it ever stayed out for long. It's a good thing this guy doesn't have his phone number…Nathaniel shuttered at the thought of waking up at four o'clock in the morning by Bartimaeus' whims. He doubted that he could handle getting even less sleep then he did right now.

"Well, might as well go in, since we came all this way." The sudden speech surprised Nathaniel, and he nearly fell over his own feet trying to rapidly turn to face the speaking man as his steps started speeding up. Something in the tone also concerned Nathaniel, like Bartimaeus was planning something, but he tried not to let it get to him as he followed Bartimaeus for the remaining sidewalk and up the small number of stairs to the entrance of the café.

A young waitress with curly blonde hair, contrasting with her all black uniform, led them both to a table outside, near the edge of the railing that they both looked up to from below on the sidewalk, and after much nudging, winking, and giggling to Nathaniel on the part of Bartimaeus, (know any other grown men that would giggle?) sending messages about the waitress, they were both seated at one of the small clothed tables. After the waitress had gone to get their drinks,* Bartimaeus started talking. Again.*

"She's kinda cute, eh Natty-boy?" Bartimaeus nudged Nathaniel's side knowingly. Nathaniel replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Really, is that all you ever think about?" Nathaniel replied disgustedly, waving his arms around a bit to get his point across.

"No, I'm doing this for your sake. And trust me on this, you really need it. You should really be thanking me. When I was your age I—" He stopped short, seeing the waitress out of his peripheral vision, with a tray of their drinks. With a glace from Bartimaeus, both men* dropped their hands and started what could be classified as a civil conversation, with many, "Well, I think that…'s" and "I agree with you there…'s".

The pair kept quiet while the waitress placed the drinks on table, Nathaniel glaring at the smirk coming from Bartimaeus. How that guy annoyed him! When the waitress was out of sight once again, he let out a huge groan, and turned himself to look out at the street below the darkly painted decorative metal balcony gate, not even bothering to touch his drink.

Nathaniel massaged the bridge of his nose while glancing at the hurrying passersby below, he thought that it must be nearing the end of their lunch break, seeing how they were all hurrying towards the office complexes which bordered Whitehall downtown. But as Nathaniel made a groggy turn to the table, and his awaiting coffee, a quick-moving object seemed to catch his peripheral vision, and he curiously turned back to his former position, catching Bartimaeus' eye as well at his sudden movement and the rustle of the starched white tablecloth.

Facing it now, Nathaniel could clearly make out a girl, hastily walking along the sidewalk parallel to the one that he and Bartimaeus currently were seated over. Her dark hair, kind of strewn messily around her slim white face, caught his eye immediately, as it swirled around excitedly with the wind and the constant fidgeting of her gaze, with the direction of her head. The speed yet reluctance with which she walked heightened as she passed one of the many alley entrances that dotted that side of the street, forcing their way in the spaces in between the bookstore, clothing store, delicatessen, and other stores which Nathaniel couldn't make out what they were from where he sat.

In front of one particular alley directly in front of their table, the dark haired girl stiffened, in doing so stood completely still. Nathaniel pondered this strange action by the energetic girl for a moment, only to be caught up with her thin frame jumping back suddenly, and her frantic running back the way she came, not bothering with any of the other alleyway entries. Nathaniel made to stand.

"Bartimaeus, there's something I must take a look at."

"That girl catch your eye, eh?" Bartimaeus slyly retorted, jerking his thumb at the girl's turning point. "Not really my type, but whatever, It's your call." He shrugged his shoulders at Nathaniel's apparent fondness for her.

Nathaniel sighed. "Whatever. I'll just be a moment." With that, Nathaniel got up and made his way away from the now confused yet grinning Bartimaeus and the chilling cups of coffee.

Bartimaeus only watched in glee as his counterpart made his way across the empty crosswalk. "I haven't seen anything quite as entertaining as this kid in years!" The older man said to no one in particular. "I truly hope that he doesn't die before I get bored with him." Bartimaeus tiredly noted as he sipped his coffee, and pulled the tablecloth along the table in boredom.

*Before you ask, no, I don't know what happened to him before he came to me, Bartimaeus, the awesome, Bartimaeus the—oh, well, anyway, for all I know, his old master started talking to inanimate objects just to satiate the loneliness that came with his pupil NOT SPEAKING TO HIM. But don't ask me, I don't really look into that type of information, and I doubt that he would tell me even if I asked. Yeah, he is one of those, were just at a professional acquaintance-type guys. Yeah, those types of guys bother me too, they always seem so distant. Never any fun. Party-poopers.

*Okay, that was soooo, not my fault. Nat over there was the one who left the burner on, blame him!

*I resent that! My thoughts are deep and meaningful, any more important and I would soon know the meaning of life itself, but I don't go that far, humanity is not ready for it. You know, that reminds me of a movie I once saw, a very funny one at that…

*Black coffee for me and an espresso for the kid. Just in case you wanted to know.

*Hey! Whoever's writing this is really starting to get on my nerves!

*The term "man" is used very loosely here in terms to Nat, I think.

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A/N: Bunny! Yeah, cliffhanger, well, I kinda got tired, I would've written more. I tried to make this chapter long because the last one was so short. I have done my best!

If you would like any characters included that have not been introduced, please tell me and I will do my best to include them!

Till next time!


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